You Loved a Synthodrone
by Rye-bread
Summary: Kim Possible's boyfriend Erik Drake was in reality a machine that tried to kill her. She dreads his return. But he's destroyed--isn't he? And a machine is incapable of real hate--or real love--or having a soul--isn't it?
1. Chapter 1: Awakening

There's a line that Ron speaks from Kim Possible, So The Drama: "You kissed a synthodrone!"

And there's a fic by the same name, You Kissed A Synthodrone?, story i.d.2405292 , by Backsides, that explores the A.U. sitch of both a "Kim" synthodrone as well as an "Erik" synthodrone. It's a classic story of mistaken identity, much like Shakespeare's plays, The Comedy of Errors, Twelfth Night, etc.

There's an A.U. story by my man MrDrP about there being a real Erik, whom Dr. Drakken has abducted and replaced with his synthodrone replica, story i.d. 3038776.

I've been inspired to continue in that vein. You'll get the idea.

My choice for Mrs. Dr. P.'s unmarried name? I wanted a last name for her that was a play on words, like Kim's last name, or Ron's. I wanted a last name that reflected her status as a medical professional. In a story I posted at dA, I chose the name "Hospiceable". At the particular moment I am writing this, that name sounds very lame. So I picked another name, a variation. It's drawn from the real-life European military order of knighthood that, during the Middle Ages, tried to keep the Christian pilgrims safe as they made their way to the Holy Land. The Knights Hospitaller. We get our words "hospital" and "hospitality" from the name.

"Ann Joan Hospitable"--"Hospiceable"--"Hospitaller". None of them quite roll off the tongue. It's a work in progress.

Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P., Officer Hobble, Dr. Drakken, Shego, Bueno Nacho, Erik, the Diabloes, the henchmen, the synthodrones, Kim, Ron, the Tweabs, the Moodulator Chip, and the sub-orbital cruiser are from the K.P. show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley.

Sgt. Smith, Deputy Kellers, and Erik's last name of "Drake" are my creation.

On with the show.

**__**

YOU LOVED A SYNTHODRONE

chpt. 1

AWAKENING

Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P., and the Tweebs gathered up the wood, plaster, and glass scraps left when the two Enlarged Diabloes crashed through the front of their home.

"And so thanks to teen hero Kim Possible, the worldwide Diablo destruction is itself disabled"

And for the umpteenth time that night, the Tweebs high-fived each other.

"Hushu!"

"HIckaboo!"

"Possibles rock--!"

"--They cleaned Drakken's clock!"

"Team Possible rules--!"

"--And Doc Drakken drools!"

Mr. Dr. P. flopped wearily on the sofa. He patted the seat beside him. "Dear--sit down. It's been a long night!"

"In a minute," Mrs. Dr. P. said. "Boys! Time for bed!"

Their faces fell. "Aw, Mom!"

"We were hoping--"

"--We could stay up--"

"--Until Ron--"

"--Brought Kim home!"

"Boys," said Mr. Dr. P. rather sharply, "You see Kim and Ron together all the time!"

"Yeah, but now--"

"--It's different!"

"They're--"

"--Dating!"

"She'll be all like lovey dovey and weird--"

"--Like when she had the Moodulator chip!"

"And Ron'll be all like--"

"--Even goofier than usual!"

Mr. Dr. P. grimaced. _Kimmie-cub--dating!_ "All the more reason to turn in early! I don't want you two prematurely exposed to mature influences!"

"But--"

"--Dad!"

"We were hoping that--"

"--the help we did--"

"--upgrading Ron's scooter--"

"--would rate a reward--"

"--like a later bedtime!"

He looked sterner. "You're lucky I don't ground you for that little thing with the missing J-200 rocket fuel! Although," and the stern look softened, "I think we can see our way to letting you stay up Saturday night for the "Flying Bricks of Fury" marathon on the movie channel."

The boys looked at each other. "Your offer--"

"--rocks, Dad."

"We're al-"

"-ready asleep!"

Besides," said Mrs. Dr. P. slyly, "Do you want to be exposed to all those romance cooties?"

The boys turned pale.

"Good--"

"--point!"

And they made themselves scarce.

Mrs. Dr. P. finally sat next to her husband. "And Dr. Possible--what's this reluctance with Kimmie's involvement with Ron? If I recall, you were 'down with Erik' just a few hours ago."

Mr. Dr. P. fidgeted. "You make a good point, dear. It's just that--there's going to be no preliminary 'getting acquainted' period. These two are going to bypass all that and go straight to the--you know--the heavy petting!"

Mrs. Dr. P. laughed lightly. "You're so cute with you sound antiquated!" She ruffled his hair and kissed him on the cheek. "I think we can safely assume Ron's firmly committed to Kimmie's virtue--even without your threat to exile him to the 'Black Hole Deep'."

"Ann--I'll minimize my emphasis on the Black Hole Deep if we can get Kimmie to minimize her wearing of the Little Black Dress--or maybe even the crop top."

Mrs. Dr. P. stood and pulled on her husband's arm. "Come on, Jim. I'll minimize what **I'm** wearing--a night gown--a Little Black Dress--or a crop top--or less--under my lab coat.

Mr. Dr. P. turned every shade of red. "Ann! What if the twins overheard?"

Mrs. Dr. P. only winked and sauntered to their bedroom.

And with the speed of one of his rockets, her husband followed.

Some time later, perhaps midnight, they heard the front door open. They heard Kim's voice. "G'night, Ron."

They heard Ron's voice. "Sweet dreams, K.P."

And Kim's voice. "Only about you, Ron-dog." And the sound of Kim blowing a kiss.

And Ron's voice. "Boo-Yah!"

And Kim's voice. "Ron! Shhh! My folks!"

And a whispered "Boo-Yah!"

And a giggle, followed by a whispered "G'night, you goofball."

As Kim tiptoed up to her loft, she heard, "Kimmie?"

"Oops. Sorry, Mom. Too loud?"

"No. How was your night?"

"Are you both awake?"

"Your mother's having her way with me," whispered Mr. Dr. P.

His wife nudged him. "Jim!" she whispered.

Kim smiled and rolled her eyes. _OMG! Well, why not? It's that kinda night._ "I had a fantastic time--and I won't bother you two. And thanks, Daddy, for letting me miss curfew."

Mrs. Dr. P. nudged her husband again.

"Uh--we trust you, Kimmie-Cub." He looked at his wife with silent appeal.

His wife nudged him yet again.

"Uh--consider curfew a thing of the past. Your mother and I feel you've outgrown it."

Kim pumped the air with her fist. _Yes! You rock, Mom!_ "Thanks, you guys. You're the best. G'night."

Mr. Dr. P. sighed. "There. I'm letting her spread her wings--as you insisted.

Mrs. Dr. P. pillowed her head on his shoulder. "Kimmie's right, dear. You are the best."

Mr. Dr. P. shrugged, smiled, and kissed his wife.

It seemed to Mrs. Dr. P. that she had been asleep only a moment. She dimly heard her pager. The call tones were from Say The Word, Kim's song from the high school talent show. _Groan. Something's up at the hospital._ Actually, considering the Diablo rampage, she had expected to be paged before this. She reached for the phone that was on her nightstand. It was on her side of the bed--usually she had to use the phone in the wee hours. She called the number her pager displayed. "Mmm--umm--hello. Dr. Possible speaking."

Mr. Dr. P. stirred. "Oh, Ann." He turned to face her. "Of all nights." He was used to this too, but still--after all the excitement--

She held up her finger for silence.

The voice speaking to her was not unknown to her. "Dr. Possible, This is Lieut. Thomas Hobble of the County Sheriff's Department."

Mrs. Dr. P. sat up in bed. _County Sheriff? _"Yes, Lieut. Hobble."

"Dr. Possible, I'm calling from the Bueno Nacho Headquarters. I apologies for this most inopportune call at this time, but something's come up--something that I need expert help on."

Mr. Dr. P. silently mouthed the name. _Lieut. Hobble? _And at the same time, his pager sounded. His call tones were from the Naked Mole Rap, Ron's song from the high school talent show.

_Very puzzling. Why would **I **get a call this hour of the night? _"Hello? This Dr. Possible, answering your page."

The voice speaking to Jim Possible was not known to him. "Dr. Possible, this is Sgt. Michael Smith of the Middleton Police Department. I'm very sorry, sir, to be calling you. I'm calling at the request of my colleague, Officer Thomas Hobble of the Sheriff's office. He should be trying to reach your wife about now."

Mr. Dr. P. sat up in bed. "Yes, Sgt. Smith. I believe she's conversing with him at this very moment."

They stared at each other.

"I got paged by the Sheriff's Department," she said.

"Police Department here," he said.

Lieut. Hobble spoke. "Dr. Possible, is it feasible to put me on speakerphone? What I have to say is for you both. But if you think I might wake up the rest of the household, I can speak to you both over each phone."

"Lieut. Hobble, we'll both listen in on this receiver," said Mrs. Dr. P.

"Sgt. Smith, I'll be hanging up and speaking with Lieut. Hobble on the other line," said Mr. Dr. P.

"Yes, sir," said Sgt. Smith.

"Go ahead, Lieut. Hobble," said Ann Possible.

"Dr. Possible--and Dr. Possible--as I said, I'm with a crime scene investigation crew at the Bueno Nacho World Headquarters. I'm the officer in charge--and it just happens to be in my jurisdiction. We were conducting routine procedure after your daughter and her partner cleaned house--as you are no doubt well aware, and I found something--." He was silent for a moment.

They listened patiently--and grew worried. "Lieut. Hobble?" asked Mrs. Dr. P. "Is it something medical? Something you're reluctant to tell me over the phone?"

Lieut. Hobble sighed. "Dr. Possible, this confirms all the reasons I had for calling you. You're two steps ahead of me. I took the liberty of sending a car. It should be there in about fifteen minutes. If you two would come out, I would be in your debt. But--." And he was silent again.

"You were about to say, Lieutenant," said Mr. Dr. P. "If you're worried, you can trust our discretion--and our courage."

"Sir--Ma'am--I've got to warn you both. This will probably mean my job. It could cost you both your careers. It might mean my freedom. But if the Fed's or Global Justice get their hands on this, it'll be like it never existed. And this is too important. At the risk of sounding dramatic, it concerns your daughter, this city, your family, this country--all that you and I hold dear. In fact, I urge you as strongly to have nothing to do with my request as I do to implore your help. Once you commit to this, I'm afraid there's no backing out. It might already be too late."

Mr. Dr. P. spoke up boldly. "Lieut. Hobble--for generations, my family has served the cause for justice and humanity, and the advancement of truth. From the time of Zim Possible, my great-great--."

Mrs. Dr. P. put a finger on her lips. "Yes, dear. What my husband is saying, Lieut. Hobble is what we've always taught our daughter--that anything is possible for a Possible. And like our daughter, we mean to do what's right, and we won't be deterred by any threat of harm."

"Yes, Ma'am. It's folks like you that make me proud to be a public servant. And one more thing."

"Yes, Lieut. Hobble?"

"If you two can bring any of your medical or scientific equipment, you should do so. You're going to need it. And if you could be at the curb when the car I sent comes, it would help. And--I hate to sound so mysterious--ask them to confirm that it's from me."

"Like asking for a code word? What do you suggest?"

"That's the trouble. I've no assurance that we're not being listening to even now. You'll have to think on your feet. Ask the driver something the public doesn't know that I might, having met your daughter on several occasions."

Mrs. Dr. P. brightened. "I've got it! Lieut. Hobble, we'll see you soon!"

"Yes, Ma'am. Looking forward. Good-bye."

Each started to dress hurriedly--and looked at each other with some amusement. Each was putting on the cargo pant and black pullover outfit he and she had worn on the Christmas Eve mission when entire family--parents, twin boys, and even Nana, had followed Kim's trail searching for Ron.

Mr. Dr. P. shrugged. "Great minds think alike."

Mrs. Dr. P. thought a moment. "We had the use of the Space Center's new sub-orbital cruiser that night."

"Sort of like Santa's sleigh," said Mr. Dr. P. "We had to cover a lot of global ground that night. I've been thinking about it myself--with our obvious need for haste."

"And?"

"I think that what Lieut. Hobble feels is the need for secrecy might be the more expedient need."

Mrs. Dr. P. nodded. "I'll go with your assessment, dear."

Mrs. Dr. P. got a medical bag and started packing a few items. Mr. Dr. P. gathered his laptop computer, PDA, and some diagnostic instrumentation.

Mrs. Dr. P. snapped her fingers. "Jim! I've thought of something." She picked up the phone and dialed a number.

Mr. Dr. P. looked puzzled. "At this time of night? Who are you are calling?"

Mrs. Dr. P. winked. She dialed a number on the phone. "Hello, Wade? Good. I thought I might find you awake. Yes, this is Kim's mom. Could you send me a Kimmunicator by your usual means? No, Kim's isn't damaged--but I need one fairly urgently. God only knows how much technology you've been able to stuff into that little unit, and I've encountered a--um--sitch that calls for scientific instrumentation of the highest caliber. I don't want to leave Kim without one, and I don't want to wake her. The poor dear has had quite a week. Five minutes? Wonderful! Wade Load, you rock. And tell your mother to give you a kiss for me. No, Wade, I don't mean to embarrass you. Consider it a motherly kiss. Thank you, Wade. And will you be available if I need you for the next few hours? I think I can operate it, but I might need some technological support. Thank you, Wade. Good-night."

Mr. Dr. P. looked inquisitive--and then nodded. "Excellent foresight, my dear."

She was writing a hasty note. Mr. Dr. P. read it over her shoulder.

Dear Kimmie, Tim, & Jim,

Your mother was called away on a medical emergency involving the Diablo attack. Your father went along just in case they needed any other scientific expertise. We each have our cell phones, if you need to get in touch. Boys, be considerate of your sister. Don't torment her about her new beau. Kim, don't maim your brothers. If the contractor comes by to start to fix the damage to the house, be helpful. Will see you tonight.

Love you all, Mom and Dad.

"Should I add anything?" she asked.

"Well--perhaps a line or two about Kimmie behaving properly regarding any--ahem--public show of affection with Ron--"

Mrs. Dr. P. looked narrowly at her husband.

And he relented. "No, dear. Excellent choice of wording. I wouldn't add a syllable."

They snuck a glance into each bedroom. Kim was snuggled with Panda-roo.

The boys restless and each had thrown his covers off. Mother covered Jim up, and father pulled the covers back over Tim.

Mrs. Dr. P. stuck the note to the refrigerator door with a magnet.

They quietly left the house and waited by the curb.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ann," said Mr. Dr. P.

She looked up at him. "I just love our children to pieces. If anything should happen to us, I just hope they would have the strength to go on--" And the words stuck in her throat. "Jim--I'm being too pessimistic, aren't I?"

He thought a moment. "Since you ask, Ann, I would say that you're only expressing a proper parental concern. We don't know what we're wanted for--but if Lieut. Hobble wants each of us, then it must be something very important. And he expressed a concern for potential problems." He thought some more. "Mother used to tell me that when she was a member of the OSS during the war, the thought was always with her that when she went out on a mission, she might not come back. Our society has grown a little kinder than that time in some ways, and a little harsher in other ways. We take it for granted that Kimmie and Ron will always survive the death traps their enemies will set for them. But--." His gaze into his wife's eyes became wistful. "--We're each only mortal. There's no assurance that any of us will see tomorrow."

They embraced. "I love you, James Timothy Possible," said Ann, and kissed him.

"And I love you, Ann Joan Hospitaller."

Carrying their supplies, they closed the front door of their house behind them.

A parcel carrier truck pulled up to the curb.

"That must be the new Kimmunicator," mused Mr. Dr. P.

"Top of the morning, Doctors Possible," said the driver cordially. "Figured I'd meet your daughter."

"We'll take it, Joe." They knew him by sight by now. Any hour of day or night, any season of year, they might see him at the house, delivering new devices from Wade Load to put in Kim's backpack, or Kim's loft. Or he might go to Middleton High School, to drop off his parcels to Kim's locker--but that is another story.

"Wade certainly knew when he starting contracting your services, Joe. You're more dependable than the paper boy," said Mr. Dr. P. appreciatively.

Joe shrugged. "Pshaw, Dr. Possible. Your daughter saved my bacon when them young hoodlums tried to hijack me 'n' my wagon here. If I did nothing but carry Mr. Load's stuff 'til they bury me at the wheel here, I figure I came out ahead in the bargain."

A county sheriff's car pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down. "Dr. Possible? And Dr. Possible?"

Mr. Dr. P. nodded. "We're both here."

"Morning, folks. I'm Deputy Sheriff Carl Keller. Lieut. Hobble sent me to pick you folks up.

It's a shame Kimmie isn't awake, Deputy Keller," said Mrs. Dr. P. "She hasn't seen you or Officer Hobble since that adventure at Camp WannaWeep."

Deputy Keller looked at Mrs. Dr. P. strangely. "Ma'am, I'm afraid you're mistaken. Lieut. Hobble himself was telling me earlier--he and your daughter met again just last year--when she rescued that singing group--the OBoyz. And I joined the force since then. I've never had the pleasure of meeting your daughter, Ma'am."

Mrs. Dr. P. smiled. "Thank you, Deputy. You've passed my little test."

Deputy Keller laughed. "Lieut. Hobble told me to expect to be questioned by you to confirm my authenticity. If I may say so, you've got the saavy of veteren law enforcement officer."

"Thank you, Deputy," said Mrs. Dr. P.

And they piled in the Deputy's car.

"Deputy Keller, can you tell us exactly what the situation is?" asked Mr. Dr. P.

They could see Deputy Keller's grimace in the rear view mirror. "Frankly, folks, it's a little beyond my ability to quite explain. I hope you'll pardon my evasiveness. I trust Officer Hobble's judgment. I think you will, too."

They made small talk on the ride out to Bueno Nacho World Headquarters, but for the most part, they proceeded in silence.

The hundred mile ride took about seventy minutes. When they pulled into the plaza, there were only two other cars--a Middleton P.D. car and a county sheriff's car.

Lieut. Hobble greeted them. "I appreciate you two coming out here at this ungodly hour. And if you'll follow me, I try and explain my dilemma."

Mr. Dr. P. pointed to a heap of twisted metal framework and melted slag. "is that the transmission tower, Lieut. Hobble?"

Lieut. Hobble nodded. "Yes, sir. That's what transmitted the command signal that activated those damnable robots. Your daughter and her partner deactivated the signal, and the damage you see resulted when one of Shego's blasts went awry."

Mr. Dr. P. whistled. They followed him into the building. The front facade was marred by a huge gaping hole. Lieut. Hobble pointed up to it. "Caused by another of Shego's blasts. That's one plucky girl you two have, to deal with an opponent who can do that kind of damage."

Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P. only nodded.

As Lieut. Hobble led them deep into the confines of the building, he proceeded to relate his tale. "When Dr. Drakken bought out the entire Bueno Nacho company, he was working through a dummy corporation run by one Justine Hench. Her brother Jack deals in contraband technology. He's the one who keeps your daughter's opponents stocked with lethal and illegally acquired technology. You've heard the expression 'thick as thieves'? That pretty much describes this family. We plan on round them both up shortly. But that's not why we're here."

They continued through the network of corridors. Lieut. Hobble continued his story. "Drakken and his crew pretty much took a corporate office building and turned it into one of his secret lairs, complete with living quarters for his goons, arsenal, numerous laboratories for the development of weapons and mutated life-forms. If I had my way, that twisted specimen of humanity would never leave a solitary confinement unit or get his hands on anything but a daily loaf of bread and jug of water for the rest of his life."

Mr. Dr. P. looked about nervously.

"Dear?" asked Mrs. Dr. P. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm just having a flashback, Ann. The last time I was in one of Drew Lipsky's lairs, he tried to feed me to one of those mutated life-forms."

She put an arm around his shoulder and drew him close as they walked. "Thank God for Kimmie."

"Amen," said Lieut. Hobble. "We're almost there. And I called you both for these reasons. I follow Team Possible's missions pretty closely, both through the official police reports and the mission log at your daughter's website. As you no doubt are aware by now, the giant machines that those damnable little Diablo toys grew into were constructing using your Haepastus technology, Dr. Possible," he said, looking at Mr. Dr. P. "And he very nearly put your daughter out of action by deploying one of his own men--this Erik Drake--posing as a Middleton High School student--or should I say androids--"

"--Synthodrones," corrected Mrs. Dr. P. "Yes, we heard the story."

"--Whatever you want to call those unholy imitations of humanity," grumbled Luit. Hobble. "But it wasn't until we carted him and his whole pathetic gang off to jail that Sgt. Smith discovered something--something that I thought required both scientific and medical expertise. Something that every covert governmental agency in the world would love to get its hands on." They halted before a door and he stopped. "If you folks want to back out, now is the time to do it. Once I open this door, you'll be as culpable as I am. I've been a lawman all my life, and I know how the directors of law enforcement agencies think. They like to imagine that they're above the common humanity. They like to make decisions that they think will help. But I'm just a common man, bound by my oath to serve and protect the public--and that includes all people--and all I have to guide me is my sense of decency, morality, and ethics.

Mr. Dr. P. asked. "Lieut. Hobble, my daughter was a little hesitant to discuss Erik Drake. What happened to him?"

"Near as we can tell, he--it--was caught in the collapse of the transmission tower. Good riddance, if you ask me." Luit. Hobble knocked on the door. "Smith? We're here!"

The door opened. A plainclothes officer was there. "Sgt. Smith, folks. At your service." He stood aside to reveal someone--a young man dressed in red coveralls such as a Team Drakken henchman might wear--minus the hood.

Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P. stared.

Erik stood up and nervously waved. "H-hi, Dr. Possible--Dr. Possible. I woke up just a few hours ago. They said you would be coming out to see me."

Luit. Hobble announced dourly. "I'd like you two to meet Dr. Drakken's last project--incorporating the Haephastus technology. The updated Erik Drake."

**__**

to be continued


	2. Ch 2: Bad Dreams, Brotherly Love

captainkodak`1: thank you, my friend. I have a rough idea where I'm taking this--or where it's taking me.

Sentinel 103: is Erik person or thing? Yes. He is. What do I mean? Wait 'n'see.

Cajunbear73: mess Kim and Ron up? That's an understatement.

screaming phoenix: still an artificial person? Of course he is. Would Kim abandon Ron for a pile of goo? Of course she wouldn't? The betrayal, the insults, the remarks? Rest assured, she has not forgotten them. In fact, they become a crippling obsession.

XoXoGigglieGirl1: Is Erik really back? We'll see.

This has to be the quickest update I've ever done of a story. That's because instead of stressing over every little word and punctuation, I just sort of drew a line at a certain point in the story and said, "Everything above is done. Now I'm going to post. Everything below the line will have to wait."

So there. On with the show

The usual disclaimers. Kim, Ron, Rufus, Drakken, Shego, Kim's 'rents, Tweebs, property of Disney, Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, etc, etc, etc.

On with the show.

_**YOU LOVED A SYNTHODRONE**_

_**chpt. 2**_

_**a bad dream, dilemmas, brotherly love, and stories**_

_Kim had one thought as she rode out to Bueno Nacho World Headquarters. Rescue Erik._

_Another though kept trying to wedge in. The thought was not verbal. It was pictorial--Ron's face._

_Hadn't they settled this the other night in the treehouse? "I mean--talk about Erik? Nah--I'm down with Erik!"_

_She tried to talk sense to him. "Ron--we're not in first grade anymore." And to reassure him. "Erik won't change what we're about."_

_But she herself wasn't so sure. Going to rescue Erik--with Ron's help. Would Erik have helped to rescue Ron if the sitch were diff? She hoped so._

_Ron had subdued the huge Sumo Ninja with a single elbow shove._

_Kim was squared off with Shego on the catwalk in the giant exhibition room of the World Headquarters building._

_Shego taunted her. "Hey, Erik's cute! Once you're out of the picture, maybe I'll date him!"_

_It struck a nerve. Kim exploded in a flurry of blows._

_Shego desperately tried to dodge._

_Ron cheered his heroine and partner. "Go! Super Suit Kim!"_

_Kim connected. Shego flew backwards head over heels and landed limp on the floor._

"_Wow! You really decked her! Didn't know you cared that much!" It was Erik's voice._

_Kim turned and saw him descending the escalator. In his white dinner jacket. It set off his olive Mediterranean complexion so well. He was looking every bit as handsome and striking as he was earlier when he stopped at her house to take her to the prom._

_And she couldn't help but compare--with a pinch of guilt--how Erik looked at that moment with how Ron looked when he flew into the prom earlier, tripping all over himself and the balloons._

"_Erik! You're okay!"_

"_Kim--"_

"_Erik--"_

_Oh, Erik." Kim nestled in his hug. He stroked her hair, and she sighed in contentment._

_Ron was no longer cheering. _

_She heard Rufus's voice behind her. "Erik! Yuk!"_

_And Ron shushed him. "Lil' buddy! Quiet! This why we came! He's the one Kim's with."_

_And Kim bit her lip. She had indeed chosen. The one whose arms she spontaneously ran to revealed her heart's preference to everyone there._

_The hug became tighter. It started to ache. Kim began to struggle. "Erik--please. You're--hurting me!"_

_A nasty smile started to appear on Erik's lips. "Around here I'm known as Synthodrone 901"_

_Kim realized with an awful feeling that she had been played. Erik was Drakken's man. She struggled to escape his embrace, but his arms felt as though they had turned to steel clamps. She could feel the surge of electrical voltage._

_The last sight she saw was the fiendish smile on his lips and the cruel gleam in his eye. The last sound she heard was Ron's frantic cry. "Kim!"_

"**Erik! Please! Stop!"**

Kim sat bolt upright in bed with a frightened yell. She clutched frantically at the blankets and glanced around the room panic-stricken. "Ron! Oh-my-God! Ron! I'm so sorry! I didn't know--I didn't mean--!"

There was the sound of feet scrambling up the stairs to her loft. The Tweebs popped up through stairwell.

"Lights!" shouted Tim--or Jim. And the room was flooded with bright light.

Kim squinted at the sudden blinding illumination. And when her vision cleared, her two brothers were on either side of her bed, in their plaid pajamas with bleary eyes and bed hair.

"Kimmie?"

"You alright?"

Kim looked around and sighed. No Bueno Nacho World Headquarters. No Shego. No cruelly grinning Erik. She wasn't wearing her battle suit. She was wearing her tank top and sweatpants. "Sorry, Tweebs. Bad dream."

A brotherly concern was reflected in their eyes that she didn't often see.

"Is there anything--"

"--We can do?"

She shrugged. "Nah. Just a flashback of Erik." Frowning, she glanced up at the ceiling. "Hey! Just a minute! How did you two work the thing with turning my lights on?"

The brothers gulped and shuffled their feet.

"It's a thing we did--"

"--to prank you."

"We thought we could catch--"

"--you and Erik making out."

"The switch is activated--"

"--By our voices."

Kim looked amazed. "Me? Making out? In my room? Daddy would ground me for the next century! What made you think I would ever do that?"

"Well--"

"--It's like--"

"--You and Erik--"

"--Looked more serious--"

"--Than you and Josh--"

"--Or any other boyfriend."

"We're sorry."

"We'll fix it tomorrow."

Kim gathered them both into a hug. "Ohh! Come here! You're a couple little demons, both of you! But I love you to pieces." The dream was just a fluke. Fate had given her another chance. Another choice. And she had chosen well.

Her brothers bravely endured their sister's show of affection.

"We're glad Erik got fried."

"We think Ron's gonna make a badical boyfriend."

Kim smiled slyly. "I kinda agree." She looked over at the stairs. "If I woke you guys up, I should go and reassure Mom and Dad that their daughter scaring the whole household awake wasn't deliberate."

A trip to the master bedroom showed it was empty.

"That's odd," mused Kim. "Mom gets called to the hospital sometimes. But Daddy gone?"

"Here's a note the fridge!" Jim called.

"They both went somewhere," said Tim.

Dear Kimmie, Tim, & Jim,

Your mother was called away on a medical emergency involving the Diablo attack. Your father went along just in case they needed any other scientific expertise. We each have our cell phones, if you need to get in touch. Boys, be considerate of your sister. Don't torment her about her new beau. Kim, don't maim your brothers. If the contractor comes by to start to fix the damage to the house, be helpful. Will see you tonight.

Love you all, Mom and Dad.

Kim mussed both their hair. "So I'm not supposed to seriously harm either of you, huh? Well, since we're all awake, who's up for a snack?"

While they ate their milk and sandwiches, the brothers ventured a question.

"We're glad you're safe, Sis."

"Erik didn't hurt you, did, he?"

Kim shook her head. "No big. Just the usual bumps and bruises. But--." She paused for a moment. "I guess it kinda psyched me. I was so hung up on him--and here he wasn't even human." She shrugged. "Bonnie was her typical self--calling Ron and I losers. Trying to make me feel two inches tall."

The brothers snorted.

"It's good Bonnie's got a smoking' bod--"

"--'Cause her brain's burnt toast."

Kim stared and broke out laughing. "You two are **bad**! Our 'rents would so flip out! We'd have to do CPR on both of them!"

They smirked.

"Yeah! You and your friends--"

"--Are a bad influence."

Kim ran after them in fake indignation. "You Tweebs! **Now** I will so maim you!"

"Only if you--"

"--Can catch us!"

None of them said it, but it felt good to tease each other. It had been a close call for the family, the city, and the world when the armada of Diabloes had run amok, and they felt closer now because of the brush with danger.

And at the same time at Bueno Nacho World Headquarters…

It was an uncomfortable moment. Mr. And Mrs. Dr. P. stared. Lieut. Hobble and Sgt. Smith stood impassively. Erik Drake shifted his gaze from face to face.

Mr. Dr. P. broke the silence. "So there's another replica of the synthodrone Dr. Drakken built to hoodwink my daughter--to seduce her--do her bodily harm--and God knows what else."

Erik lowered his head. "Dr. Possible--the last thing I remember before waking up in some kind of glass coffin was being confined by Shego and Dr. Drakken threatening me with bodily harm unless Kim surrendered to him." He looked up. "And I hope God bears me witness, sir, because that's what I know."

"Actually, there are eight more replicas," said Lieut. Hobble.

Mr. And Mrs. Dr. P. stared again. "Eight?" said Mr. Dr. P., aghast.

"Mike, tell them," said Lieut. Hobble said to Sgt. Smith.

Deputy Kellers and I were in this section of the building round up the rest of Drakken's gang, when we were surprised by two of these synthodrone things and a man dressed as a ninja armed with some kind of electrical light saber weapon. and t generated a beam that flickered like a florescent bulb. I identified myself and told them to freeze, but they attacked. I managed to fire one shot. It hit one of the synthodrones and the thing went flat like a punctured balloon. The other two kept coming. The ninja took a swipe at me with his weapon. It cut my gun in half, neat as a hot knife through butter. Deputy Kellers came to my assistance, but the other synthodrone moved to fast and managed to subdue him." Sgt. Smith sighed. "I don't mind telling you--I thought my number was up. That ninja was about to take my head off. Then this young man appeared," he said, pointing to Erik. "He grabbed the synthodrone and threw him off Deputy Kellers like a barroom bouncer. The ninja turned and slashed at him across the chest. He grabbed him and broke his arm, and crushed the weapon with his bare hands. Then the synthodrone came back. Mr. Drake here punched a hole in the thing's gut and--ffffffft--another flat balloon.

Mrs. Dr. P. stared at Erik, amazed. "You took a slash to the chest? Erik! Are you okay?"

For answer, Erik unzipped his coveralls. There was a scorch mark across his chest. "That blade cut me open, Dr. Possible. But I didn't really feel any pain. By the time I was done, it started to heal."

"I thought he was a goner," said Sgt. Smith. I saw his chest laid open. I saw his ribcage and lungs."

Mr. Dr. P. approached Erik. "May I look, Erik?"

Erik nodded.

Mr. Dr. P. muttered to himself. "Self-replicating, self-healing material. Haephastus technology at work."

"Now tell them your story, son," said Lieut. Hobble.

Erik shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well--I saw you folks earlier tonight when I came to pick up Kim for the prom--

_**to be continued**_


	3. Chapter 3: a night at the prom

Who'd a thunk it? I've been answering dozen's of reviews--patiently adding bits of story to various chpt's--like building a model airplane--preparing my next chpt of A Heroine's Legacy for posting--or my next chpt of The Lion, The Treehouse, And The Naked Mole Rat--and then a couple note's from my fellow FF-dot-net member KP's Man asked if I've abandoned this story--and something hit the "on" switch.

Just a note--Erik's story covers several paragraphs. According to the rules of punctuation, I didn't put quotation marks at the end until the last paragraph of his speech before another character spoke. Hope people can follow the story thread.

The credits. Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Walter Nelson, Bobby Johnston, Brick Flagg, Josh Mankey, Officer Hobble, Bueno Nacho, the Little Diabloes, Erik, Synthodrone 901, the Kimmunicator, Mr. Dr P, and Mrs. Dr. P are from the Kim Possible show, property of Disney, craeted by mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and directed by Steve Loter.

Erik's last name--Drake, Synthodrone 902--at least for this story, Officer Hobble's first name--Thomas--& rank--Lieut., Sgt. Smith, and Deputy Kellars are from my muddled mind.

Let me say something I often say. Profanity in a story. I do not include it as part of the narrative--only as part of the characters' speech for dramatic effect. I weigh and evaluate every instance of coarse language. If something is less graphic but still dramatic--or realistic, I go for that. Neither do I take Our Lord's Name lightly--or try not to.

I know. It's a short chpt. Patience, oh my readers. & thank you for all the faves, reviews, & alerts. To God be the glory. May truth, love, and righteousness always triumph.

Vaya con Dios

So without further ado

_**YOU LOVED A SYNTHODRONE **_

_**chpt 3 **_

_**a night at the prom**_

"Now tell them your story, son," said Lieut. Hobble.

Erik shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well--I saw you folks earlier tonight when I came to pick up Kim for the prom--I assured you I would have Kim home in time for her curfew, Dr. Possible--and you said 'This young man's got it goin' on'--" He smiled to himself. "And I thought, man how lucky can I get? A drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend in a knockout formal gown, and a father who approves of her boyfriend? Anyhow, you took our picture, and we left for the prom. The place was decorated like a fantasy. We had time for one dance--" He frowned. "--And then Ron came stumbling in, freaking out. 'The Diabloes are evil! The Diabloes are evil!'

Erik stopped his narrative, seeming to gather his thoughts. "Dr. Possible--and Dr. Possible--I'd like to think I'm a stand-up guy--never gossip, never diss anyone, always be considerate. Kim has mentioned how--um--weird Ron can get sometimes. The first day we met, he was complaining about me taking his parking spot--and I met his pet. And I knew he was kinda jealous of me being so close to Kim. I felt sorry for 'im. I kinda wish he coulda' had a Prom date--then he could'a doubled with Kim and I. I've tried to get to know him better--but it's really obvious he wouldn't mind if I keeled over dead. I talked to Kim about it, and she said it was no big--so I let it go. But I swear to God, when he came into the Prom, I started seriously wishing **he** would keel over dead."

Jim and Anne Possible had both been listening intently to Erik's story--and Jim began to remember his enthusiastic endorsement of the now-destroyed Erik-Drake-Synthodrone-901. Forst he had tried to sound fatherly and authoritative--he was used to Bobby Johnston, Walter Nelson, Josh Mankey, Brick Flagg--a whole succession of Kimmie-Cub's dates--including Ron Stoppable--snapping to attention at the Black-Hole-speech.

"_Let's get a few things clear right up front."_

But **that **Erik had disarmed him completely_. "Oh, you read my mind, sir. Now, Kim explained that her normal curfew is ten o'clock but on special occasions and rescue missions, you extend that to eleven. I'd feel better if we stick with ten."_

It had taken the wind out of Jim Possible's sails. It had tickled Jim's vanity, he admitted candidly to himself. He had the tried to sound hip and contemporary.

"_Really? This young man has got it goin' on!" _

His daughter would've died of embarrassment had she come downstairs at that moment.

This Erik certainly sounded sincere, too. Jim shot a side glance to his wife and expressed his skepticism with a nudge of his head toward the young man.

Anne had her own doubts--both about that Erik and this one.

Her daughter had said--gushed, really--last night, "Is it just me, or is he perfect?"

And Anne had condemned him with faint praise. "He seems--very nice." Had Kimmie--and Kimmie's father--been less starstruck, they might have noticed her mother's distinctly reluctant tone of voice.

And so Anne Possible perceived her husband's doubt. She inconspicuously drew the Kimmunicator from her pocket and flipped the "on" switch.

At once an oscilloscopic display appeared on the screen. The peaks and troughs coincided with Erik's verbal utterances and pauses.

Jim's eyes widened in surprise. _Smart girl! She's using it like a polygraph! A lie detector!_

Anne possible winked and put her finger to her lips--and directed her husband's gaze back to the boy.

Erik continued his account. "Ron dragged Kim outside the building--and then looked completely lost--'cause the Diabloes had disappeared. I asked if he was okay--guess it didn't come out very friendly. He was in my face just like that. 'Okay, I know that tone!' he said. ' That's the _"Ron's making up the whole thing"_ tone.' And he was right. I didn't believe him any more than I believed in flying saucers.

"He tried to appeal to Kim's friendship. 'My best friend Kim will believe me--right, Kim?' But you could tell she was really uncomfortable. And he just kept with it. The Diabloes were to totally there--and totally evil. Then he mentioned Dr. Drakken--that it was obvious--he would use the more than thirty-thousand Bueno Nacho outlets worldwide to distribute the toys. I thought he sounded like some bizarre commercial.

"I'll be honest. I sort of lost it about then. I got back in his face. He and I argued for a minute. And when Kim decided to check out the story with you, sir--" Erik pointed to Mr. Dr. P. "--I just blew my cool entirely. By then, Kim was talking to Wade Load on her little PDA thing--Kimmunitor, or whatever she calls it--Wade said something about advanced circuitry and Drakken's voiceprints. I argued some more--said the story was ridiculous. Ron called me Pretty Boy and told me to back off--and he was so--arrogant--I just wanted to bust him! But I was raised better than that. Besides--Kim would've busted me!

Erik laughed bitterly. "What did it matter, anyway? All I saw was my special night with my special girl going right down the tubes. Kim said she ahd to go--it was a Save-The-World thing--promised she would be back.

"Monique and I danced, and got some punch, and talked. Then I got a call on my cell phone. Something about my dad wanting to see me. It was his secretary's voice. Told me to wait outside, by the curb. So I went out. Then a van pulls up, three guys built like gorillas get out, grab me, and throw me in. I'm in the back seat between the two of them, and in the seat in from me, a freaky lady turns around--pale as a ghost, wearing a green suit--."

"--Shego--." offered Mrs. Dr. P.

"--Yeah. Had this look in her eye--like she was coming on to me. Really creeped me out. They drove me out to Bueno Nacho HQ. The place was crawling with men dressed in red jumpsuits--like I'm wearing--."

"--Drakken's henchmen--." offered Mr. Dr. P.

"--Whatever--and ninjas and very disturbing-looking guys dressed in what looked like flights suits and goggles--like the two who were going to attack Lieut. Hobble and Sgt. Smith. And I got to meet the take-over-the-world-mad-scientist guy--Drakken. He was the creepiest of all. He got on some video phone setup. And I figured out he was talking to Kim. He said Shego had met the nicest boy. I figured he was talking about me. He let me see her for about a second. She blurted my name and I asked her what the heck was going on. Drakken kept ranting something about 'surrender is your only option'. And it hit me. I was the hostage. After he hung up on Kim, Drakken looked at me--he called me Synthodrone 901--and he ordered me to 'assume my true appearance'--whatever that meant. Then--I don't know--the next thing, I was laying down on my back, falling asleep."

Both Anne and Jim were thoroughly engrossed in the narrative. Anne suddenly realized sne had neglected to watch the Kimmunicator. In her haste to glance at it, she dropped it.

The noise startled everyone--including Erik. His eyes wandered in shock when he saw what it was. "**WTF!" **he said crossly. "**You** have one of those things, **too**?" And at once, he shook his head and blurted out an apology. "I'm sorry--I'm sorry--I didn't mean that."

"Son?" asked Lieut. Hobble. "Are you okay?"

"Not really, sir!" said Erik resentfully. "I'm just remembering--my night from hell started out with one of those things! Kim's went off even before Ron showed up at the prom. I sort of tried to be clever and suggested to her to let it go to voicemail." His lip curled. "Wade mentioned scanning the toys--I should've had him scan **me**! Then I would've found out I'm a refugee from a sci-fi-android movie and I could go and jump in front of a car--or off a building**!**"

"Son," said Lieut. Hobble sternly. "You stow that kind of talk! I brought these people out here to help you! Now, you just take a minute. Settle down. And then finish your story. And Lord willing, we'll find a way through this muddle."

Erik heaved a sigh, and continued. "I woke up in some kind of chamber--like in the sci-fi movies that are used for suspended animation. It was like a bed with a glass cover. I was bare-ass-naked--uh, sorry, folks. I didn't have a thing on. I lifted the lid and got out. I heard some noises, and went to look. And like the officers said, they were being attacked. I just went ahead and--you know--without thinking, and uh, pulled the guys off of them--." He stopped.

"Erik?" asked Mrs. Dr. P. softly.

Erik started to become distraught. "Dr. Possible--it's like I had super strength! And super-healing! The cut in my chest was closed inside of a minute. And then I hear this story from Officer Hobble--how upstairs I turned from Kim's prom date into one of Drakken's syntho-droids, or whatever the hell they are--I tried to **electrocute Kim**--I was **punching holes**--**in concrete!** They're telling me I tried to stomp Ron's head into the ground! They're telling me Rufus bit me in the leg, and all this syntho crap leaked out--like these things here--! But I was down here--! But if I was down here, it wasn't really me at your house--! It wasn't really me with Kim at the prom!"

"Erik--we're here for you. It'll be alright." Mrs. Dr. P. laid a sympathetic hand on his forearm.

"Alright? You're tellin' me it'll be **all right**?" Erik's eyes were wide with terror. Plainly he was becoming unraveled. **"Dr. Possible--last night I was Kim's boyfriend! Last night I was human! I am **_**NOT**_** all right! What the hell is going on with me? What the hell kind of--thing--**_**am**_** I?"**

Erik sat down and buried his head in his arms. His shoulders shook with silent sobs.

_**to be continued**_


End file.
